It became apparent that I was not going to get my work back. Not in time. I knew it was to burn with me at dusk. There was no real choice. Once I was gone, my brothers had no chance at all. The Lady of the Forest had been very specific. The six shirts must be made from start to finish by my own hands. Then, when all were ready, I must place them over the necks of the swans myself. All six in the same place, one after the other. Only then, if I had remained silent, would the spell be broken. I would not let them kill me, not without having tried. I must try, though it seemed hopeless, for this would be my brothers’ very last chance. I could not finish the sixth shirt. But I must call them anyway. Maybe, just maybe this would be good enough.

I moved away from the window, sitting on the floor so I looked straight out into the sky, westward. So that I could not see the men, and what they were building. I made my breathing slow, and cleared my mind until it was still and calm as a stone in the heart of the forest. Then I bent my energies on my brother Conor, somewhere beyond the sea. Every shred of thought. Every fiber of will. Pictured him in my mind. Tall, pale, an ancient spirit in a young man’s body. Gaunt-faced, wild-haired, dressed in rags. Conor. You must come now. It is today, at dusk. A deathly silence, save for the faint sound of hammering.

Conor. Please hear me. Come to me in the courtyard of the great house, where I showed you. You must be here by dusk. Bring them. Bring them all. No answer. Perhaps, after all, it was too far. Bring them. This is the last chance. You must bring them. A little wind stirred outside the window, and a bird called. That was all. Maybe he could not hear me. But he had said, call, and we will come.

Men seemed to make a lot of promises. Finbar had said once, I will always be there for you, and I had believed him. Red had said, I will come back.

I shivered. What if Richard’s men had intercepted him, what if…? Without Red, Harrowfield would become cold and lifeless. Already it was changing.

Later in the day they took me out to use the privy, and brought me back again. On the way I heard women’s voices arguing downstairs. I heard someone say, Father Dominic, but I could not catch the rest. I saw nobody. Then they brought me food, but I could not touch it. Finally, I curled up on the floor in a corner, half sleeping, half waking. Outside, the hammering had ceased and all was quiet. Soft light slanted in through the windows, catching particles of dust in a warm haze.